It's A Pretty Good Story
by Wispy Willow
Summary: As he lay bleeding in the ambulance, Sam told Andy that theirs was "a pretty good story". While their future is unwritten, here is a mostly descriptive and not very dialogue-heavy attempt at getting into Sam's mind in the closing scenes of Season 4 Episode 13. It takes us to moments and memories of their past and present, with tiny hints of what might be ahead.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER. I DO NOT OWN ROOKIE BLUE AT ALL.

"No. It's a pretty good story." The words weakly slurred out of Sam's mouth. He barely heard himself speak, but he hoped to God Andy had.

Despite his hopelessly desperate state, he experienced a sudden delirious sensation. She had just admitted that he alone had made her feel more loved and cherished than anyone ever had or could. That might be something just worth dying for!

He wanted to reassure her, but speaking cost him precious air. He was dizzy from the loss of blood. It was getting harder to breathe. He had no ability to stay conscious, alert and with her right now.

Andy looked at him, her eyes etched with pain and fear. Then she let out a muffled sob.

"I love you," she stammered in desperation. "I love you," she repeated more firmly, shimmering tears trickling down her cheeks.

"You are my story Sam. _You!_" There was anguish in her, but a radiant honesty too. He captured it in his mind's eye to keep him strong.

He couldn't do anything but lie there, as Andy's distressed face floated in and out of focus. He clung to her hand, his mouth dry as chalk and his voice reduced to a raspy croak stuck in his throat. He felt so damn tired and weak.

There was so much to say; but a tight smile was all he managed.

He wanted to tell her that she had become the beginning, middle and end of his own story, practically from the moment she hurtled into his life.

God, if nothing else, he really needed to tell her that _she_ was the author of his future, if he was to have one.

Instead _his_ story might be ending right now, right here! With death lurking somewhere not far from him, Sam experienced a rush of fear and frustration. Yet it was all tempered by the euphoria of finally knowing that _he _was still the one who truly lived in her heart.

It was ironical really that the starkness that surrounded them so dramatically, also enhanced the thick, intricate layers and vivid complexities of the ties that bound them.

It was all out there now. The intense emotion between them was raw, unmasked and concealed no more.

Shit, why had they kept avoiding the obvious? How had they managed to evolve to such a state of denial? How had they maintained that stubborn refrain that kept them drifting past each other?

He had only really begun _living_ when she was in his life. And now here he was; possibly dying with only her hand to hold on to.

He wanted to live dammit! He wanted to hold her in life again… to have and to hold… Christ. It was untenable. It wasn't conceivable, but he loved her more now than he even knew it was possible to love someone.

As Sam tumbled more and more from consciousness, he drew a reverent sort of comfort knowing, Andy's face was the last he saw before he succumbed to the fogginess… or worse.

If he wasn't so sleepy, weak, paralyzed and lost right now, he would reach for her and cling to her. He would crush her against him just as he had that incredible night she had evocatively recalled moments ago.

While the haziness claimed him he began vividly reliving that night. He heard again the sound of her hauntingly painful sobs. They penetrated the silence and drew him out of a deep slumber.

At that moment every inch of his soul had cried out to soothe her. He had instinctively grabbed her and cradled her tightly against him. His fingers tangled in her hair, his heart pounding with a protective instinct reserved for her alone.

He somehow knew she was dreaming about the night her mother had stolen away and left her. Left without a word, sign or gesture.

He had buried his nose into the soft silkiness of her neck then and softly but assertively whispered. "I'm right here. I'm going to hold on to you and I'm never going to let you go."

As though by osmosis, she had absorbed everything he was trying to communicate to her. Christ. He had felt a quiet new calmness claim her as she softened and relaxed into him.

His cloudy mind clambered back to his present dilemma. His body was failing him, but his heart was fighting to live another day. Fighting for one more chance to love her again.

The darkness was coming for him, dragging him down to an abyss and far away from her.

His brain began scrambling and racing with a thousand frantic memories all meshed up in one another, as he grasped for one last chance with her.


	2. Chapter 2

_Inside Sam's Mind_

Hundreds of stolen moments, words, looks, and touches between them flooded Sam's unconscious mind. All of them flashed through his brain in brilliant, brief, disorderly and psychedelic spurts.

The first time he saw her ever. God, fear and inexperience was written all over her that day she thrust the door open and trained her gun on him.

He heard her triumphant laugh and glimpsed at the sparkle in her eye, as she used him as a punching bag to get Callaghan out of her system.

The look in her intriguingly beautiful eyes before he kissed her at the undercover apartment over two years ago.

The relief on her face when he convinced a lovesick youth to surrender his strategically pointed firearm. The serenity in her as she fell asleep on him later that night.

God their story was deep and rich with moments and memories.

He could barely keep track as they raced at him now. The petulant swish of her pony tail when she raced away from him on a morning run; her empathetic smile as he shared a rare secret with her somewhere between Sudbury and Toronto; the smoothness of her body as she furtively slid into bed beside him; the thick cloud of flour that hit his face that morning they baked together; the pain etched on her face when he left her in the rain; the way she looked at him at Frank's wedding; the first time he held her hand; her giggle when he tripped over her shoes; the torment and passion in her when she kissed him the night she shot and killed someone.

More and more intense and vibrant moments from the past rushed at him. Her voice echoed in his ears with words spoken in haste, anger, lust and love. He heard it all again crystal clear.

He was back in _The Penny_ parking lot, after their first full day riding together.

"You were there," she said with an earnestness that had torn so deeply through him.

"I love you," the sparkle and vivaciousness in her, when she said those words for the first time ever.

.

"Oh my God… Sam," the wonder in her voice that morning they had explored and explored _and_ explored together

"You broke my heart," the sad resignation in her.

"I love you, I love you," her voice broken by sobs… "You're my story Sam… _You_!"

Somewhere, somehow many more frantic voices bombarded his consciousness. He felt his body manipulated by machinery. He heard the signals and beeps of medical equipment, but he was in too deep to respond.

Then he felt her presence again. She was close. It was something warm and unexpected. Yet he sensed more. She was anxious, distraught and nervous.

He knew her. In his gut he knew she was more frightened than she had ever been. He urged himself to fight harder. He had to win this intensely physical and psychological battle back to her.

His mind submerged back into the memories. Only this time they were not harried, disjointed and overwhelming. They were organized, clear and vivid.

One moment in time filled his mind in crystalline detail.

He saw her again standing there before him. Her hair up and her immaculate shoulders and arms flowing out of the stunningly sexy white shirt she wore. He was exhausted, weary and unshaven. He felt every bit as rough as the beast he must look like.

Such a contrast to her cool, breezy beauty!

"Oh! You look like you worked all weekend." She exclaimed cheerfully.

"Oh I did," he confirmed drinking her in surreptitiously.

"You?"

"Paintball,"

He grinned at her knowingly.

"You win?"

"Yup. I rocked."

Damn how he loved that feisty competitiveness in her! She loved to win. It was integral to her.

Like a natural progression his mind took him to a more distant memory. He once again stood before her rugged and rough, while she shone like a fresh cut diamond in his midst.

It was the previous fall. He hadn't seen Andy in practically four days, barring a brief glimpse of her heading into shift the other day. They had made quick eye contact, but that was all.

With Shaw he had pulled four half-day shifts followed by three all-nighters in a row. The Division had needed their most experienced officers for these shifts. Crap he was getting too old for those stunts.

He was beyond exhausted. His face was covered in three-day-old bristle. He felt roguish, groggy, and grouchy.

No wonder he was feeling down and moody, he had been deprived of Andy for more than three damn days.

But then, surprisingly, he collided straight into her as he walked into his house. He hadn't been expecting it. He was taken off guard by the sudden contact.


	3. Chapter 3

_Inside Sam's mind_

"Ahh," Sam gasped as he closed his door and unexpectedly walked into Andy.

The collision was abrupt and swift. He hadn't a clue she would be right there, just one step into his home. Heck he hadn't expected her to be in his house at all. He had just called to leave her a message telling her he was heading back home to hit the sack.

It was the beginning of the day, just on 8am. Though his mind was a blur brought on by fatigue, he knew that much at least. She was due on shift all day, he knew that too.

If they were lucky, he would _finally_ get to see her after that. God had it been four days since they spent time together.

But she was right there waiting for him. She was looking bright, fresh and radiant as she held a glass of orange juice. She smiled at him while attempting to prevent the juice from tipping out the glass.

"Andy… what… what are you doing here?" He spluttered out, his voice a thin croak.

"Saying hello…or as it turns out trying not to spill orange juice all over me and the floor," she giggled licking the juice off one of her fingers.

"I can see that," he murmured stepping further into his hallway and taking the glass from her. He took two quick gulps and squeezed his eyes closed before looking at her again.

Hell she was a sight for sore eyes. She looked just amazing. Her jeans hugged her body and the top buttons of her blouse were undone.

"I mean how come you are here _now_? Aren't you due on shift?"

"I've got your keys I decided to stop by and put some stuff in your fridge first…I wasn't sure if I would catch you coming in."

"Oh," he tipped his head up. "That's…. uh… nice," he deposited the glass on a table and rubbed his stubble.

"Well what can I say I'm nice," she shrugged her shoulders and gave him one of her narrow eyed smiles. Was she being playfully condescending dammit?

"You look like crap by the way," she added folding her arms. She was lying. He could see right through her. There was that hesitation in her face that betrayed her real thoughts.

She also had a glimmer in her eyes. He instinctively knew she was guessing whether they had enough time for… other diversions. They didn't. He had already calculated the time restraints.

He smiled at her smugly. It made him feel heady, and even egotistical knowing that she thrived on the way they were together physically.

"Thanks," he mocked softly. "You don't," he continued tersely before biting his lip.

"Huh. Oh great you mean I don't look like-"

"No. I mean you look _good_," he interrupted. His eyes burned into her as he stepped closer.

She smiled and waved her arms around slightly, trying to distract him no doubt.

"Well at least you have a few basics now. I got some bread, cereal, milk and cheese," she mused.

He was silent.

"What?" She smiled into his face.

He had kept looking at her with as much playfulness as he could infuse in his expression. It was the first time he had come home to find her there. He would have thought that would have stoked his commitment phobia big time. But actually it felt really nice.

She giggled then and punched his side playfully.

"If you're thinking anything else forget it. No time. _That _will have to wait," she replied, reaching for the juice and taking a sip.

He took the drink from her hand and put it back on the table.

"Wait for what?" he teased raising his eyebrows.

"Something amazing," She whispered boldly. She didn't budge when he stepped closer blocking her exit.

His hand came to her jawline. He sensed the electric ripple running through her at their contact.

"We spend a lot of time waiting." His voice had become a low growling rumble as he stared at her voluptuous lips for a moment.

He watched the smile tweak her lips and the gentle flutter of her eyelids flickering open and closed. Then he kissed her. He was superlatively gentle and soft. He didn't want his stubble to irritate her perfect skin.

His mind and body was racked with fatigue but he felt brilliantly alive when he kissed her. He wished it was easier for him to open up to her and say the things in his heart.

She reached for his face and began kissing him with a passionate intensity. In contrast to his gentleness, her touch was fiery and ardent. Through no fault of his own his unshaven beard abrasively scratched and grazed her skin. She didn't seem to care.

He took her eagerness as an open invitation. Easing his mouth from hers, he burrowed his face into the sweet softness of her neck and hair. He inhaled the familiar texture and scent of her, as his tongue slid over her skin and his teeth sank just enough to elicit a sharp, sweet gasp from her.

"No…. no… no… no," she managed at last, grappling for some control.

"We'll have to wait again." She managed to untangle herself, albeit not very willingly.

He groaned reluctantly releasing her.

Her vivid smile and voice began fading away. "We'll have to wait... we'll have to wait … we'll have to wait." Andy's words kept repeating in his mind until her voice became a soft inaudible whisper.

Another voice, an authoritative one interrupted.

"Wait out there officer. We're taking him to surgery now."

Sam's mind began screaming out. "Wait for me Andy. Wait for me!"


	4. Chapter 4

A look at the flip side! What is playing through Andy's mind and heart as Sam fights for his life? This picks up from Andy stepping into the ER, (Season 4, Episode 13) and takes her through a cataclysmic wave of flashbacks, memories and dreams. (Hopefully it's not too confusing!)

I DO NOT OWN ROOKIE BLUE

Andy watched bewildered. Everything that was going on around her was overwhelming, outlandish… surreal. She couldn't be sure any of this was really happening.

Her face was red and swollen. Her eyes were burning. Her mind was numb. Her heart had crashed. Like a fine, thin sheet of glass, it had shattered into a myriad of tiny pieces.

She had known something like this once before. She had been confined within cold and sterile hospital walls; feeling tense, anxious and useless.

It was just over two years ago on the night Luke had been shot. That was such a grotesque incident. Grotesque and incongruous, so much like what had happened to Sam tonight.

That awful night, it had been Sam who had sat by her side. He hadn't left her. He had been so stoic and assertive. He has been so firm and resolute… so completely comforting and present for her. And now… and now it was Sam…who…

She hadn't witnessed Luke's shooting; but tonight she _had_ seen a bullet cut savagely through Sam.

She had heard the urgency in his voice as he yelled, "_Ford! No"_. She had seen him catapulted backward by the sheer velocity of the deafening bullet.

When she reached him seconds later, she had seen the disbelief in his eyes as he clutched his abdomen. She had seen the crimson blood seeping from his damaged body. She had felt his confusion and shock as he reached up to her.

Andy squeezed her eyes closed in a feeble attempt to banish the harsh imagery bombarding her mind's eye.

Even though she had experienced something similar before, Andy knew with certitude she had never _ever_ suffered this kind of acute, excruciating and raw agony.

The doctor had relented and allowed someone to be by his side. Only one person could go in. Naturally she was the one! No-one questioned it. No one doubted it.

She felt so empty that all she could do was stand in the Emergency Room distraught and confused. She looked helplessly down at a severely wounded, motionless, unconscious and unresponsive Sam.

Christ he looked so fragile and vulnerable. She took a deep breath. These were not characteristics she typically associated with Sam Swarek. How was any of this possible?

One minute Sam was dominant, strong and bold. He was like a rock. He was practically larger than life as he took control of the situation at 15.

The next minute Sam had fallen. He had fallen. None of this made any sense!

"Wait out there officer. We're taking him to surgery now!" An ER nurse called out to her.

There was an odd silence and calm in the newly-emptied room. It was a stark contrast to the scurry of frantic activity just moments before.

Fear sabotaged Andy, freezing her to the spot. It was the second time tonight Sam was rushed away from her.

As the quiet engulfed her, Andy's mind had nowhere else to flee. She was forced to acknowledge an undeniably monstrous possibility. She might lose Sam tonight. Christ, were those agonizing moments, their very last together?

Her thoughts instantly raced to Traci. Suddenly she grasped the devastating depth and weight of her best friend's plight a year ago.

Traci was somehow pulling herself through Jerry's murder. But if Andy were to lose Sam, she just couldn't fathom a way forward. Just none!

It was impossible, untenable, unthinkable, and implausible. How was she to go on if he no longer existed? Sam belonged in her life. She had told him so herself. He was her story. He was her life!

"God," she whispered under her breath, half in despair, half in search of solace. "I can't lose him. I can't. Don't take him from me!" Her thin, weak voice was inaudible even to herself.

Someone was waiting for her in the hospital right now. She knew it. But, she could not go to him. Not now. For everything he had come to mean to her; and in spite of all his attributes; Nick had no place in her tormented and empty heart at this time.

There was only one person who could fill up all these gaping voids, and assuage the anguish within her. _Only one_. And he was clinging precariously to life on an operating table at this very minute.

Feeling horribly disoriented, Andy's eyes fanatically scurried for scant signs of Sam. She spotted it then lying discarded on the floor. Sam's tainted shirt.

Seconds before they took him away, it had been cut hastily from his bleeding body and forgotten about.

Wordlessly she bent down and scooped it up. It gave her odd comfort, as though she was holding a part of Sam. It was a remarkable blue colour, except for the stained puddle of red blood.

She smiled and muffled a little sob as she looked at it. Truthfully it was the not the first time she noticed that shirt today or ever. It had caught her eye again when Sam came into Parade this morning.

Even though she was standing right next to Nick, she couldn't help thinking that Sam looked every bit as intriguing in this shirt, as the very first time she had seen him wear it.

When was that? It must have been five months ago. It was that day she had walked into him at the Barn. It had been bitingly awkward and laced with tension! Yet it had also been deliciously electrifying!

**FLASHBACK**

_"Oh sorry. Sorry," she blurted uncomfortably as their bodies brushed against each other._

_"Excuse me. Sorry." He said quickly and awkwardly. His hand touched her elbow, as if to steady her a little._

_His mesmerizingly blue shirt grasped her attention. It contrasted remarkably with his black hair and deep chocolate eyes. A smile escaped her immediately._

_Like a blushing school girl with an obvious crush, she began talking nervously. "That's a nice shirt. It looks good on you."_

_He made an appreciative sound, looking down at his shirt too. He seemed completely startled by her sudden compliment._

_"Really great jeans too," she continued deliriously. She was on a roll. His intoxicating proximity was making her act in ways she had sworn she never would again, when it came to Sam Swarek._

_She just couldn't help herself. He was looking ridiculously handsome, and she didn't even have a single claim to him. All she could do was give him gushing compliments._

_"Oh… ah… thanks," he said curtly, a pleased smile on his face._

_"Have a great shift," he added hastily. When they first worked together he had an uncanny way of making her flustered and nervous at times. At that moment, she was having that kind of effect on him it seemed._

_"You're welcome," Andy smiled headily unable to tear her eyes from his. She wondered why he was looking so confused, yet he smiled back at her._

_Then Gail and Traci got in the way and reality hit. She felt suddenly ridiculous, foolish and immature. She needed to get away from him instantly. She couldn't stand to be so close while fully aware that there was no more hope for them._

_His eyes burned into her back as she walked away. "I meant thank you," she called back to him. She felt so frustrated. How could she allow him to still have this hold over her?_

**PRESENT**

Now as Andy's fingers gently kneaded the remnants of that shirt, a giddy thought came to her. Had he worn it by design today? After all, before the shooting, he had all but told her that he couldn't get her out of his mind.

Had he donned it because he knew how much she once appreciated it on him? Shit, if only he knew how good she thought he looked, no matter what he wore.

The shirt was yanked from her hands suddenly.

"Officer McNally you need to move please. We need this unit." It might have been the same nurse. Andy couldn't tell. She couldn't put words to faces right now. Everyone sounded the same. They all spoke and moved with such pressing urgency.

Her eyes flickered and she opened her mouth to try and reply.

The nurse paused for a moment. There was still urgency in her voice and demeanour, but at least she stood still, so Andy could focus on her.

"Look I don't know who that patient is to you, but there's a waiting room through there reserved for close family… _and_ significant others. It's quieter there. Go there and wait okay."

Andy cast a fawn like look of gratification at the nurse.

"We'll update you the minute we can, okay hon." This time her voice was calmer and tempered with compassion.

"Tha… thank you," Andy's voice came out hoarse and unfamiliar. Her feet felt like blocks of ice, but somehow she made herself move.

She headed straight into the waiting area reserved for family… _and _significant others.


	5. Chapter 5

It _was_ quieter in the more intimate waiting room; and relatively unpopulated. Andy felt relief sweep over her. She couldn't possibly go back to the droves of cops outside.

They would look at her with furtive, pitiful expressions. What could she tell them? She couldn't go with a clear heart or conscious to Nick either. What could she tell _him_? How could she actually say the things he had surely already deduced from her actions and distress?

Overcome with exhaustion, she collapsed onto a chair. Her head voluntarily rolled into her hands as she leaned forward, elbows to knees. She managed to block all sensations and fears from her mind.

She barred everything, but the feel of Sam's hand in hers. Everything but the sound of his reassuring voice. It all came back to her in one vividly definitive memory… one lost moment from almost four years ago.

**FLASHBACK**

_He was smiling at her. Smiling with his mouth and his eyes. He looked boyish and mischievous. His voice was reassuring and jokey. He was quirky and teasing. He was Sam!_

_"It's okay. It's fine. It's fine… it's fine." he said calmly._

_It was a stifling hot summer's day. In his haste to rescue a young girl lying unconscious in an ice cream truck, Sam had gashed his palm on a sharp outcropping of glass._

_God, she even remembered the name on that truck, _Mr. Delightful_. As well, she recalled the insufferable truck owner._

_They were both uniformed cops then. Sam had been her training office for a few months at most. He had gotten the girl out. Once she was safe, he had crudely bandaged his cuts himself._

_Standing next to him Andy voluntarily reached for his hand to examine it._

_"I don't mean to sound like your mother, but I think you might need stitches," she told him._

_She was captivated by how soft his hand felt. She had expected every part of him to be cloaked in roughness. A roughness to match his brazen and brash attitude._

_But, his hand was soft and strong. She hadn't wanted to let it go even then. That night she got her first sampling of just how soft, electrifying, magical and sensuous those hands were too._

_She had fled to him. Run to him as though he was some hallowed sanctuary. When she reached him, she had said little, but acted instead. She had roughly thrust him against the wall and attacked his lips with a voracious appetite._

_He hadn't expected that, but within seconds he was responding with the same ardour and urgency coming from her. He had met her crazy need and desire head on, shifting her into his home, as they exchanged hot, passionate kisses; raw, mesmerizing looks and no words._

_There had been a basic, instinctive drive and visceral physical yearning flaming between them. Sam's body language had been definitive, assertive and self-assured._

**PRESENT**

Andy opened her eyes then coming back to the reality of the waiting room. In her mind she made an instant connection to the way they were then; and their fleetingly honest and earthy interaction earlier tonight at the precinct.

His intention to disregard Frank's orders and go home irked her beyond belief. Mostly because she knew she would be insanely worried about him.

**FLASHBACK**

_"But not you! You're bullet proof," she taunted him._

_God, had she said that? How sadly poignant!_

_"No," he replied firmly, a strange melancholy in him. He seemed resigned. He seemed determined not to be swayed._

_"Sam you can't just leave!" She had been so intent on changing his mind._

_"Yeah, I can actually. It's the only thing I can do. The only good thing." He wore a regretful expression as he turned to leave._

_She chased him._

_"Hey, hey. What do you mean the only good thing you can do? How is it a good thing to leave?" She demanded, keeping pace with him._

_"Everybody's fine. Oliver's okay." Sam replied swiftly._

_"Right. So stay," she retorted adamantly._

_"I can't. I can't." She heard the fatigue and surrender in his voice then._

_He sighed and sunk his temples into his hands. Frustrated and dejected he looked up at her again. She knew at that moment he was going to reveal something deep and intense._

_"I can't be here anymore… with you." Sam's voice was woven with sorrow._

_"I don't understand." She said softly. But in actuality the core of Sam's plight was beginning to take definition in her mind._

_"I screwed up. It's my fault. I screwed up over and over and over again." He sounded so guilty. He was taking ownership of their failed relationship. The heavy toll it had taken on him was now crystal clear to her._

_She felt something deep inside herself unravel. It felt like a key had begun to turn inside an old rusted lock. There was something brilliant that needed to be unleashed she knew it. She couldn't find words. She didn't know what to say._

_"Andy I want you to be happy. More than anything in the world. More than anything I could want for myself. And you are… with him." There was that heavy sadness and weary resignation again._

_God he knew about Nick. No one knew about her and Nick, except possibly Gail and she knew Chloe suspected it. Still, it was a secret. It wasn't even an established thing really. Whatever the heck it was, she sure as hell didn't want Sam to know about it._

_Sam stood before her heartbroken, dejected; selfless in defeat. His eyes were bewildered and miserable. Acknowledging Andy's apparent new found happiness with someone other than himself, had seemingly gutted him._

_"And that means... I gotta go," He concluded sadly. So that was it then. He had resolved it was too painful to continue to be a part of her life._

_He had walked away from her then. He had held up a white flag of surrender. He had decided to, once again, let her go. He had decided to step aside completely and let her be happy with someone else… again!_

_But, Andy had followed him. She had followed him because, this time, to her core she didn't accept his argument or its premise._

_Tonight, as usual Sam intrigued her. His intensity and honesty exhilarated her. His words had triggered an underlying spark to vivacious life again._

_For the first time since their break up, she felt really stimulated, awoken and ignited anew. Her mind and heart had been provoked by incredible new possibilities._

_She was, as always, undeniably drawn to him like a powerful magnetic force. She just knew something raw, visceral, vital and physical was straining to break free between them again. Just like that night she had been on the precipice of betraying Luke to be with Sam._

_She couldn't help herself. She had followed him outside into the brisk cold night even though they were both under the strictest orders not to leave the Barn._

_She couldn't see his face as he strode ahead of her. He knew she was following him. She could sense all the tension and pent up need emanating from him. For Sam emotional admissions of any kind were difficult and rare. One like this was mammoth and unique._

_Outside there were no more seeing eyes. There were no more milling errant witnesses. They were alone with an abundance of tension and emotion flowing between them._  
_All self-control and common sense was on the verge of disintegrating altogether._

_It was dangerous, and not just because of the threat the shooter posed._

_She knew it. She didn't care because she finally felt like she was coming alive again._

_That basic, instinctive drive; that earthy physical yearning; all of it was surging volcanically between them at that moment._

_She called after him. "Sam."_

_He hadn't answered. He was walking away with sharp, agitated moves. She knew he was trying to control the situation, and that to do that he wouldn't look at her._

_God, had she not broken the tension by recognizing Oliver's cruiser, things may have gone differently. So, so differently._

_She would have called his name again in poignant, emphatic tones. He would have turned to her frustrated and animated. His tormented smoldering eyes would burn into hers. He would stare at her questioningly, but she wouldn't say anything._

_Instead she would let him see the same passion and torment in her eyes reflecting right back at him._

_Would that have emboldened him to action? Angst-ridden would he have growled her name? Perhaps he would have reached for her without an iota of hesitation. Maybe it would have been him who pushed her against the wall this time._

_She could feel it now. His body pressed firmly against her. She could imagine his hand slipping swiftly to caress her neck; his nose tentatively rubbing hers, his sensual lips devouring her mouth. Just like that fateful night she went to him._

_If a scenario like this would have played out, she would have responded innately and ravenously with every inch of her body._

_She would have frantically pounded his lips and clung to him, regardless of the fact that Nick and Marlo were in the building behind them… regardless of the fact Nick was in her bed that very morning… regardless of everything._

_But, her eye had caught the serial number on Shaws' cruiser, and everything went even more awry from there on in._

**PRESENT**

"Sam," Andy whispered under her breath, drawing back to the present reality. A reality where she sat racked with worry. A reality where Sam was fighting for his life. She leaned her head against the wall, as more tears trickled from her eyes.

"… I just wanted _you_!" Sam's voice replied. She was taken back to the day she was reinstated after her suspension. Sam had said those words to her with solidity. It had stopped her in her tracks even then.

"I just wanted _you_!" She heard his voice again. It was so soft, sincere and haunting.

"I screwed up. It's my fault. I screwed up over and over and over again!" The words he had just said to her a few hours earlier, jumped back into her mind.

She twisted her hands through her hair. So much had happened between them. How to unravel and make sense of it!

God they had both screwed up. It wasn't only him. They had both created such emotional carnage here.

"I love you Andy. I do." She once again heard the earnestness in him as he struggled to get these words out.

Were they ever really to finally have a chance together? Were they forever destined to drift painfully past each other? There was still a real chance for them dammit. But it might all be obliterated tonight if Sam didn't pull through.

"Sam don't leave me again," she whispered tearfully, not really caring if anyone could hear her.

"I'm right here. I'm going to hold on to you and I'm never going to let you go." She heard his voice again.

Her mind spoke silently to him. If only he could hear her. _"It's a pretty good story Sam. It's our story and I don't want it to end… ever!"_


	6. Chapter 6

Andy had succumbed to fatigue. Lying across two chairs, she had drifted into a fitful, tormented sleep.

She woke frequently, desperate for news of Sam. Her body tugged her from anxious wakefulness to harrowing sleep. Each dream took her to a crystalline memory she had shared with Sam. He was her story!

It was as though they were intertwined from the day they met. She felt like they were together even when they weren't. This story of theirs it was so wildly vivid and deep.

It might just be one of those _real_ love stories. It might just be that they were that rare breed of _true_ lovers, bound in body, mind and heart. They were just so intrinsic in one another's lives.

If she recounted almost every moment that really mattered these past four years, Sam was there!

Andy shuddered and shivered as she slept. In her mind she was somewhere warmer, somewhere safer… somewhere she belonged. She was in bed with Sam asleep next to her.

**FLASHBACK**

_They had finally had a chance to be with each other again after his gruelling shift of four nights in a row. She had only really seen him briefly that morning, when he walked right into her at his place._

_He had appeared roguish, dishevelled and ruggedly handsome. He looked irresistible. He had almost convinced her to stay a while too. It had been so hard to extricate herself from his hands and vices; but if she didn't leave, she was going to be really late for work._

_He had picked her up after her shift later that day, shaved, showered and re-energized or so it appeared. He certainly had plenty of energy once he got her back to his place!_

_They had fallen asleep tangled up and exhausted. Yet she woke up near dawn feeling chilled. She was naked and the sheet they shared provided scant warmth._

_She rolled toward Sam's body for heat, but before she touched him she stopped. As enticing and tempting as it was, she didn't want to wake him. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in days, and he was on shift first thing in the morning._

_So she rose and padded about to seek some clothing. The first thing she found was Sam's discarded shirt._

_She slipped it over her shoulders and buttoned it up. It smelled like Sam, earthy, leathery, and minty. She enjoyed the feel of the fabric on her body. A new warmth cocooned her._

_Sam stirred and rolled over in his sleep. She remained still and quiet until she once again heard his steady breathing. Smiling she moved to the window peering out to the quiet street below._

_A few cars drove silently by, but all else was still and sleepy. She leaned against the wall while she surveyed the darkness and twinkling street lights._

_She felt satiated, happy and more alive than ever. It was strange; While Sam really complicated her life, he also brought her a sense of calm and awareness she had never expected. Nor had she experienced it with anyone else._

_She wondered why she had ever questioned being with him. In truth no-one made her feel more desirable, confident, free and strong._

_"Andy," he called her name into the darkness. Something must have woken him. Perhaps it was her absence in bed, or her movement at the window._

_"I'm here," she answered softly smiling in his direction._

_He got up and walked towards her coming to a halt a few feet from her. His shadowy face was silhouetted by the street lamp outside._

_"What are you doing?" He asked rubbing his head._

_"Figuring things out," she replied smiling at him. She could just make out his chiselled face and sparkling eyes._

_"What's there to figure out at this time?" He sounded confused and tired._

_"Oh, you know, where to put all my stuff." She mused playfully._

_"What?" He asked perplexed._

_"I'm thinking about where my furniture might look really good in this place," she giggled._

_"Huh?" He asked looking at her pointedly. She couldn't make out his expression, but she knew it was a puzzled one._

_"You don't remember asking me to move in yesterday?" She had said in all earnestness._

_"What… what are you talking about?" He stammered_

_"Downstairs this morning. You don't remember. You said I might as well get my stuff and move in." She folded her arms as she spoke._

_He grinned and shook his head. She could see the whiteness of his teeth as he bit his lip. "Oh," he croaked softly._

_"Hah, got yah fooled for a minute," Andy suddenly shrieked in laughter. She gently punched his shoulder as she spoke. "You were actually wondering if you said that."_

_"I could even see the fear in your eyes," she smirked and giggled again._

_"McNally," Sam replied unerringly calm "It would take a lot more than that to get me panicked."_

_"Oh I bet," she challenged, her eyes pinned on him like a target._

_"Well I don't know about _all_ your stuff, but you look pretty good right here," his voice was sexy and raspy._

_"Come on is that the best line you've got?" Andy teased coyly._

_"No. Actually I also think that's a nice shirt," he quipped back lifting his chin. There was a new energy in him. His sleepiness seemed to have dissipated._

_"It's yours," she retorted._

_"I know. Give it back," he demanded, his eyes suddenly burning into hers._

_"You know I'll freeze without it," she responded softly._

_"Uhuh. Give it back." He gently grabbed the shirt front and tugged her closer to him._

_"Okay," she whispered, her body freshly aroused. Her fingers voluntarily moved to the first button. She undid it wordlessly._

_"What's yours is yours," she murmured in a breathy voice looking directly at him. Even in the dim light she could read the desire sparking in the depths of his eyes._

_Her fingers moved to the next button. His hand came up and closed over hers, holding it still. He released her grasp on the button and pulled her hand away tangling his fingers with hers._

_"What's mine is mine," he crackled hoarsely._

_He brought up his free hand and with a silken touch began undoing the remaining buttons himself, his eyes never leaving hers. Her pulse had started racing as his fingers scraped against her skin. She began breathing more quickly._

_He worked slowly, but finally his hand slipped beneath the fabric and onto her body. Her skin tingled at his touch as the shirt slipped from her shoulders and onto the floor. She leaned into him, allowing complete access to every part of her._

_His warm roaming hands felt remarkable. Nobody touched her like Sam. Nobody knew her body so articulately and enticingly._

_His breath and his lips seared a trail up her shoulders and neck. "Are you freezing Andy?" Sam whispered coarsely as her hands ran up and down his sinewy back._

_"No," she whispered drifting her fingers through his satiny hair, just before he sunk his lips back onto hers._

_She felt the softness of the discarded shirt at her toes as her body rose and responded to his ministrations, like clay molding in the hands of a sculptor. Their bodies blended into each other's. It felt like heavenly perfection._

_Neither of them said another word, allowing their hands, bodies and mouths to communicate instead. They thrived on the physical intimacy that allowed them to unite in ways they never expressed with words. They thrived on togetherness._

**PRESENT**

"Stay with me Sam. Stay with me," Andy's mind kept repeating as she groggily started coming back to wakefulness.

"Stay…" his whispering hoarse voice resounded in her ears. She was bouncing one memory off another. This one belonged to that astounding night aeons ago in the undercover apartment.

"Wake up Officer McNally," someone was saying to her.

Her eyes shot open in sudden alarm!

The shirt, the dream, Sam…

"_Stay_ with me Sam."


	7. Chapter 7

_**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ROOKIE BLUE**_

_**SUMMARY FOR CHAPTERS 7 TO 12  
**_

_ "Sam I'm right here," Andy told Sam. And she meant it! She kept a torturous overnight vigil waiting and wanting only to be reunited with him. _

_Sam and Andy's fears and dreams keep drawing them back to each other, while they strive for this eventuality. _

_In an effort to remain true to the actual existing storyline, the presence of Nick Collins in Andy's life cannot be simply and easily discounted! Yet it is impossible to ignore that Sam and Andy could finally be on the cusp of something right, real and remarkable!_

_Just like previous chapters, the next six chapters of this story are speckled with flashbacks and dreams._

**CHAPTER 7**

"Officer McNally," someone was gently shaking her.

She sat up suddenly her eyes squinting in the brightness. She shuddered at the abrupt interruption of her sleep.

"I'm sorry to wake you. It's not the most comfortable of places to sleep…"

"I'm okay. Please just tell me…Sam…." Andy's voice was hoarse, yet urgent.

She blinked to focus on the person before her. She managed to discern that it was the same Emergency Room nurse who had ushered her to this waiting room earlier that night… or last night… depending what the heck the time was now.

Another woman was with her. She stepped forward and introduced herself as a surgeon. Andy was having difficulty calibrating the information. She began to tremble, as she waited for the news she needed to hear.

"He just came out of surgery. He's in the Intensive Care Unit now." The doctor announced with a pasted, sympathetic smile.

Andy swallowed hard and stood still. "Can I go to him?" She murmured.

"No. Not in ICU. If he gets through-"

"In a few hours we should be able to move him to post-op. You can be with him then." The nurse interrupted the doctor.

"Oh," Andy said, dropping back down to her chair. God, was this the news she wanted? It was better than… it was good news _wasn't it_?

"Is he going to be okay?" She implored them to quell her anxieties.

"He's listed as critical. It's too soon to say." The doctor spoke with a hollow honesty. "He lost a lot of blood, but his internal injuries are minimal. That is very good. If he gets through the next few hours, he'll probably make a full recovery… physically at least."

Andy's heart began hammering harder.

"Well you might want to settle in for a bit longer. It might be a while before we can update you." The ER nurse chipped in. The doctor smiled at Andy and offered some prosaic words of encouragement, before hurrying away down the corridor.

The nurse lingered with her a little longer. "Officer McNally there _is _someone who really wants to see you."

'Nick,' Andy thought with a sigh. She didn't know how to feel about that. He was being selfless to a point. It was just that… it was just that she couldn't see him right now.

Considering the floodgates of the emotion of the previous few hours, what was the status of things between her and Nick now?

"I … I can't see him right now." She murmured, looking away, so as to avoid the eyes glancing curiously at her.

"Him! You mean _her_." The nurse responded.

Andy blinked in confusion. God, it must be Marlo. She definitely wasn't ready for _that_! She loved Sam… she was _in love_ with him. She had told Andy herself just yesterday!

What was there for Andy to say to Marlo right now? _'I know you are hurting Marlo. I understand that. But, I have to be here. I love Sam too… I never stopped. I'm certain he still feels the same about me.' _

Maybe it would be best to say nothing to Marlo; after all she would read it all on Andy's face… if she didn't already know it.

Andy was staring vacantly at the nurse, as her thoughts frantically skittered all over the place.

"It's a Detective Nash." The nurse spoke when Andy failed to respond to her. "She said Detective Swarek is her partner."

Andy let out a snort of relief. She even managed a genuine smile, possibly for the first time that night.

"Trace… Traci. Yes of course."

"Good," the nurse smiled. "I'll send a volunteer to get her."

Moments later, Traci was walking towards her. She was holding a steaming cup and a small bag. Everything about her was the personification of warmth and friendship. Andy couldn't have been more in need of both.

Traci planted the cup down on the table and waited a moment before speaking.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," Andy replied.

"How are you holding up?"

"Fine," Andy lied, avoiding Traci's eyes. Traci said nothing in response. After all, Andy was as transparent as a piece of glass – especially now.

Finally Andy relented and looked at her. A tear trickled out of her eye. "Not good Trace. Not good." She replied, truthfully this time.

Traci looked at her, compassion brimming in her soft eyes. Without a word, Andy rose and crumpled into Traci's arms.

"They don't know if he'll make it. They can't say yet for sure." Her voice was weak and broken. Memories and images from a year ago wracked her mind. She saw herself enveloping a broken, collapsing Traci the night Jerry had died.

And yet, almost one year later, here was a full role reversal. Here was a strong, resilient Traci. Here she was resolute, ready and able to give Andy _all _of her fortitude.

Traci gently released Andy and looked into her tormented eyes. "Listen you're going to calm down and stop thinking the worst. Okay."

"You know Sam Swarek. He's one stubborn smartass! If anyone can beat the odds _he_ can." She continued, eying Andy with calm authority.

Andy nodded, wiped her eyes and smiled again.

"Okay, you probably haven't eaten in hours. There's a muffin and a banana in the bag. I'm sorry, but it's the best I could muster together at this hour."

Andy took the paper bag and flopped back down to the all too familiar chair. Her fingers began playing with the muffin inside.

She really wasn't hungry, but Traci had a point. She needed something to fuel her if she was, at the very least, going to keep up an appearance of coping.

She lifted the cup from the table. "What is this?" she asked curiously. It wasn't the coffee she was expecting, but it had an intriguing aroma.

"It's organic Raspberry Ginseng tea." Traci replied. "It's supposed to be therapeutic and energy infusing according to Celery."

Andy looked at Traci, eyebrows raised quizzically.

"It turns out she carries a whole bunch of remedies and potions in her purse." Traci smirked playfully.

"God. She really _is_ a witch." Andy chuckled. It felt good to joke again.

She took a bite of the muffin. It was tasteless, but she forced herself to continue eating it.

"Is Oliver okay?" She asked earnestly.

"He is getting better. Celery finally had to tell him about Sam. She said he's more worried about Sam _and_ you than himself."

Andy looked away for a moment. Christ, Oliver had always been bluntly frank with her regarding Sam. It was as if he saw through their numerous walls to the transparent reality that existed between them.

Practically from the moment she came back to 15, Oliver had sought to close the massive chasm that developed between her and Sam.

Truthfully there had been so much denial between her and Sam lately… but Oliver simply never bought into any of that.

"Traci, do you remember our first day on the job?" Andy's mind was scurrying about again, yet she fully expecting Traci to be on the same page as her.

She, herself, remembered her obtuse rookie pride as she announced to Oliver that she had "made a couple of arrests."

"I'll never forget Olly's reaction when he saw that I had arrested _Sam_!"

"I remember," Traci smiled. "Heck what a sham that was! First day and both of us as green as they come." She shook her head in recollection.

"I can't believe I actually apprehended Sam. God… who would have thought!" Andy giggled lightheartedly.

"Yeah, well he really looked like a sketchy dealer. I mean who could blame you for arresting him?" Traci chuckled with complicity.

"I thought he was kind of cute even then. You know, with his hair all super greasy." Andy grinned as she sipped her tea.

She was silent for a long moment, then she took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Traci, I don't know how to explain it, but when Sam is around, I just feel… I don't know _safer_… you know."

She received a sweet, empathetic smile from Traci in response.

"God I even remember telling Sam that after our first day riding together." Andy murmured softly. She allowed herself the luxury of some more quiet reminiscing.

For one scintillating moment she was back in _The Penny_ parking lot, four years ago. Christ, she realized her and Sam very nearly kissed for the first time that night.

**FLASHBACK**

_He had looked at her, a splintering distinguishable spark in his eyes. "Mc_Nally_," he had pronounced her name with the slightest sly emphasis on the last part of it. His voice had been so irresistibly sexy too. They had shook hands moments before, and he hadn't released her hand yet. Instead he used that contact to gently pull her closer to his warmth. _

_Damn she had almost given in then too. She had almost given in after barely a day of knowing him. It had taken all her resolve to break eye contact, and push him gently back with the palm of her other hand. _

**END OF FLASHBACK**

"Andy," Traci was looking at her quizzically, as if she was in some kind of a trance. "Sorry," Andy replied weakly. She really wasn't in control of her rambling mind at the moment.

"You know when Sam wanted to leave the precinct earlier tonight, I kept telling him to stay. I just knew I would feel better… _safer _with him there." Her voice petered out, as she fought back the tears again.

"It's like he's front and central in my life… even when I have someone else in it." She paused.

Traci smiled quietly at her friend. There was a question there, but she refrained from asking it. She had noticed the hovering, overly concerned Nick tonight.

She had seen him staunchly volunteering Andy to go to Sam, with a look that spoke of a certain self sacrifice. He had also meandered quietly away when she left, his stature and composure seemingly diminished.

If there was something there between Andy and Nick, it was no wonder Gail had been treating Andy like a pariah lately. Still, this wasn't the time to address any of_ that_ with Andy.

As if reading Traci's thoughts, Andy looked beseechingly at her. "It's_ always_ been Sam." She looked back down at the cup in her hand, her own honesty overwhelming her a little. "I've never been able to get him out of my system. I don't know if I ever will."

There was a nostalgic pang in Andy's voice that began to poke at the all-too fresh wounds still within Traci.

"I know," Traci finally replied in self resignation.

After a while Andy spoke again. "Trace, you're so strong. I really admire that in you."

Traci smiled and snorted. "Try becoming a mother. It's amazing the strength you find when you have a child in your life."

She swiftly fished through her pocket. The next moment she produced a picture of Leo.

Andy took the photo from Traci. She smiled back at the jubilant smiling boy in the picture. It was as though everything fell brilliantly into place, by simply looking at the potential within a child.

She paused and held the picture for several moments before she handed it back to Traci.

"Listen. Why don't you go wash you face and freshen up? I'll be here and make sure you don't miss anything okay." Traci gestured for Andy to get up and stretch her legs.

Andy took another sip of tea, nodded and rose.

"Thanks Trace." She whispered softly.


	8. Chapter 8

The cold water felt refreshing on her skin. Andy looked at herself in the mirror. She looked a sight!

Her eyes were red, swollen and stinging. Her hair was loose and disheveled. She pulled her black police t-shirt from her pants and teased her hair to some kind of order.

Then she splashed her face again before looking back at herself in the mirror. She verified the time on her watch. It was 3am in the morning.

This felt like the night that never ended. It was more gut wrenching than Sam had fallen victim to Jamie Brennan.

She smiled to herself. She should hate Jamie Brennan, but if it wasn't for him… that magical first night with Sam may never have happened. God, how wondrous and amazing that had been? Hadn't she described it as "heavenly"?

Honestly up till that point in her life she hadn't known it could feel that good to give and take with such free and oblivious abandon. She had never experienced such sublimely, delicious physical passion, as she had at the hands of Sam.

Andy sighed pulling her back to the present and away from those frivolous memories. They had no place here. Now more than ever, she needed to focus all her energy on helping Sam recover and heal.

She patted her face dry, while her thoughts went back to Traci's words.

She must be fatigued and weary beyond anything rational because, for a fleeting moment, she saw not her own reflection before her, but that of a child instead.

It was the face of a little boy. He had the darkest jet black hair, dripping deep chocolate brown eyes and dimples in his cheeks and chin. He looked so much like Sam!

She closed her eyes and opened them again. This time it was her face that peered questioningly back at her. God, there _had_ been times when she had imagined having a child with Sam.

She shuddered and hugged her arms around her. This was ludicrous. Sleep deprivation was rattling her nerves. She had no business, now of all times, to revisit those tantalizingly familiar dreams of the past.

She and Sam had never spoken of these things but, at this moment, she couldn't help wondering if such lofty thoughts had _ever_ crossed Sam's mind.

He really was like a dark knight, shrouded in thick mystery when it came to family! Yet, whatever deep secrets lurked in his past, _had_ he ever envisaged creating a new family and a future… _with her_?

Had Sam_ ever_ imagined having children… _with her?_


	9. Chapter 9

"I keep thinking about the future."Sam heard his own voice, speaking. Yet his mouth was not moving. Instead his words were an echo from a past conversation.

They originated from a wistful memory loaded with regret and nostalgia.

His fuzzy mind momentarily saw Oliver's knowing eyes looking directly back at him.

As always, Shaw looked right through Sam. He always saw translucent truths, wherever and whenever Sam refused to acknowledge them.

He relived the conversation. It was pivotal, since Shaw had finally forced Sam to acknowledge exactly how much Andy McNally still meant to him.

**FLASHBACK**

_"__I keep thinking about the future." Sam's voice was earnest, sincere without a hint of jest or laughter._

_"__Kids. The park on Sundays."_

_"__Real life. Something more than this. _With her_."_

_"__I keep thinking about the future…" Sam's voice echoed in his ears again._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

**DREAM**

_A child giggled somewhere in the back of his consciousness. The happy sound filled the air with a sweet, innocent vitality he had never really known. Yet, he had a yearning connection to it. _

_The laughter resonated like a bubbling brook, so filled with joy and promise. _

_He looked around to take in his surroundings. He was in a park. It must be fall. The leaves were iridescent hues of red, gold and yellow. Everything was bright and pristine… perhaps too much so. _

_This couldn't be real. This had to be a dream. It all appeared too crisp and lustrous … and yet intangible._

_He was hearing these remarkable sounds, seeing these magical scenes and experiencing this dreamy sequence, purely in his mind. He knew he had to be physically detached from it because he couldn't _feel_ any of it._

_He couldn't sense the breeze brushing over his face. He couldn't feel the crunch of leaves underfoot as he walked on them. The warmth of the sun did not touch him. _

_There was that sweet laughter again. He squinted and made out the silhouette of a little girl. She looked no more than five or six years old. She was running while she laughed. She had that carefree, playfulness about her that only children possess. _

_Her long, dark brown hair toppled down her back. She was running with a zest and swiftness achingly familiar to him._

_Another lighthearted chuckle escaped her before she turned to look at him. He saw her eyes only. They shone with mischief and were such a distinct shade of amber. _

_"__Daddy, help me on the Monkey Bars!" The child exclaimed in delight. It gripped his heart and made it beat a tad faster._

_"__No come push me on the swing," another small voice called out. "I need to go high into the sky like a plane."_

_He had to respond. He had to say something. He had to chuckle. They were talking to him. They were calling him Daddy. This had to be the most beautiful dream he had ever had._

_Before he could say anything, another voice cut in._

_"__Ha! If you want to fly, stick with me honey." _

_Her voice was wonderfully familiar. He turned to find its source._

_Just like the little girl her dark brown hair tumbled loosely down her back. She sensed his eyes on him and swished around. Her smiling eyes pierced his heart. _

_They too shone with mischief, yet were filled with the richest answers. They reflected what he knew. They showed what he cherished. They were such a distinct shade of amber… so much like the little girl._

_"__Mummy you're funny!" _

_"__Come on Daddy." There were more giggles, more chattering little voices, more of _her_ voice, but they were getting softer and more difficult to discern._

**END OF DREAM **

As the voices and images faded away, his mind scrambled to recall them. He wanted to hear them again. He wanted to see them again. He needed them close.

He was trying to respond, trying to say something. He was trying to run to catch up to them. But they were out of reach, and he was stuck, silent and paralyzed in a spot. He tried to move his lips. He struggled to get a word out… but none came.

He sensed his seclusion. He was alone, lost in a deep sleep.

Where was he? What was happening? Why couldn't he move, or come out of this comatose state. Why was everything playing out like a dream sequence?

My God. He was seeing a family. _His_ family. _She_ was in it, she was part of it. _She,_ Andy McNally was the mother of his children!

In his newly tormented mind he acknowledged that he was physically traumatized. A formidable event had transpired. His life… his future with her… was on the line.

He had no strength to force his eyes open. Yet he could feel a deep seated gritty drive pushing him forward. Forcing his body to heal. He was weak, but fighting.

His dreams flitted back to the park. He could hear those children's voices and make out their shadowy frames like a silent witness. A witness to his lost dreams… a witness to a potentially brilliant future?

There was a movement next to him. With the light softness of an angel she had appeared. She smiled radiantly. This time he could actually _feel_ things.

He felt the silkiness of her skin as she grasped his hand and cradelled it softly in her hand.

"I wish I knew what was going on in your mind." She murmured. She was smiling and there was a hopeful hue in her eyes.

The sound of childrens' laughter ehcoed in his ears again.

She lifted his hand and brushed her satiny lips against his fingers. He felt it all. "Sam!" she sighed softly. "Fight for _us!_"


	10. Chapter 10

Andy had long since finished her tea, but she persisted on playing with the lid of the cup. It gave her something to do at least, even if the horrid crinkling noise irritated both her and Traci.

Traci hadn't actually said it, but Andy knew she wouldn't leave till they knew more about Sam.

It was interesting, Andy reflected, that Traci herself had formulated a new bond with Sam. It was something unforseen, yet real. It was something that emerged naturally, given the new dynamic in their professional relationship. It might even be a real friendship of sorts.

"How is Chloe?" Andy asked, suddenly remembering the other victim of the hideous rampage of the previous 24 hours.

"She's still unconscious. The doctor suggests surgery. But it's risky and her husband wants to wait it out." Traci replied.

"Her _husband_!" Andy exclaimed staring wide-eyed at Traci.

"I know, I know." Traci responded with an inexplicable expression. "Don't ask. Nobody knew anything about that."

"Wow. You think you know someone and…" Andy shook her head.

"Kitten, you never really know someone." Traci smiled as she repeated the words once told to her.

"What do you mean?" Andy asked puzzled.

"Oh nothing. That's just something someone once said to me." Traci smiled slyly, evading Andy's eyes.

"Who?"

Traci gave Andy another secretive smile, before opening her mouth to speak again. It might bring Andy solace to know these had been the words of Detective Charlie Walsh, one of Sam's closest confidants.

Before Nash could speak, another voice filled the air.

"Officer McNally. Patient Samuel Swarek is in post op. I will take you up to him right now if you want."

It wasn't the ER nurse. Instead it appeared to be an orderly or some other staff member. "Nurse Greyson asked me to get you the minute he was out of the ICU." The woman spoke, as if in answer to the unasked question.

God bless that guardian angel ER nurse, Andy thought. A smile instantaneously flourished her face.

Sam was out of the ICU. That must mean he was going to be alright now, surely.

She turned to Traci with a new sense of relief in her.

"Go!" Traci waved her hand, motioning Andy to leave at once, a smile of relief upon her face.


	11. Chapter 11

As if in a dream or a daze, Andy wordlessly followed the orderly. They took an elevator. Her companion spoke sparingly telling her Sam had not yet regained consciousness.

It seemed like forever before she left Andy in the recovery unit beside Sam's bed.

Sam was a deep sleep with wires and machinery connected to him. She heard the steady beeping tracking his strong heart beat.

He looked so vulnerable… so innocent. His face bore an intriguing expression. Gosh what was he thinking or dreaming about, if anything?

Silently she sat on the chair beside him. Then, she smiled. His presence was bringing her an odd new confidence.

She reached for his hand. It felt as soft and strong as she remembered it. She had always enjoyed the firmness in his hands and fingers. He could work magic with them.

She cradled his hand in hers now, as if it was some sought after treasure. She looked at him intently even though his eyes were closed.

"I wish I knew what was going on in your mind." She murmured. She was smiling and there was a hopeful hue in her eyes.

It was subtle and barely visible, but she could swear his lips moved the slightest bit in response.

Instinctively she lifted his hand to gently kiss and caress his fingers. She somehow intrinsically believed that he could feel her lips on his skin.

"Sam!" she sighed softly. "Fight for _us!_"


	12. Chapter 12

Sam had heard Andy's words like a force of blinding nature. Joy began to gush to every part of his broken body.

He once again felt an overwhelming urge to rise up and hold Andy, only he couldn't. He couldn't even open his eyes properly. He had lost the ability to emit a singular sound from his hoarse dry throat.

If only Andy knew that he _was_ fighting. He was fighting with every single ebb and grain of strength he had left. He was completely drained, but his determination had far from evaporated.

He felt like a reckless mountain climber on the precipice of a glorious peak. Yet, he was grappling for balance on an icy ledge. Everything was so finely balanced, one single misstep and it could all crumble perilously away beneath his feet.

His mind compelled him to consciousness, but before he could attain it, he felt himself tumbling again. He was whisked into a cloudy, foggy world, where he couldn't quite grasp her hand and tell her to stay… this time forever.

At some moment he could no longer feel the warm pressure of her fingers on his. She must have let go, but he didn't know when. He had no sense of time passing.

He could swear he came close to consciousness several times, before dipping back down again to the deepest world of oblivion.

Apart from Andy's strikingly rich words, and the comfort of her warm lips on his hand, he couldn't be sure of what he saw and heard. His mind was interwoven with an agonizing blend of confusion.

At one moment he thought he had managed to briefly open his eyes. He couldn't see Andy, but he could sense her nearby, like a delicate, essential shadow.

He tried so many times to open his mouth and say her name. But he was mute, mute and wandering alone in a fog.

He could swear he heard her voice. He couldn't detect her words, but her tone was quietly anxious, trembling and tempered with overwhelm.

He didn't know if any of this was real or not. He was incapable of picking through this forest of uncertainty to decipher what was really happening around him. Where did reality intersect with wildly uncomfortable hallucinations? He couldn't tell.

He couldn't be sure if he really saw her sitting outside the room he was confined to. If he he had, she was holding her head in her hand, as if in confused desperation. He once again opened his mouth to call her name, but she moved briskly.

With one quick motion she wiped both hands over her face.

He glimpsed past her was not alone. He recognized Nick Collins instantly. God, was this real or merely a deep fear from his self consciousness?

Was he seeing Collins now in a torturous dream, only because he was the embodiment of a threat? Did he represent a very solid and real danger to himself and Andy being together again? Was he envisaging Collin's presence, only because he was the _one_ obstacle left standing between them?

**FLASHBACK**

_ "__Andy I want you to be happy… and you are… with him." Those blunt, painful words he had said to Andy… who knows when? _

_Naturally he had been referring to Collins… because he and Andy had formulated some kind of dalliance… some kind of liaison… some kind of _something_._

_The fawn-like, look of guilt in Andy's eyes couldn't deny that he had uncovered their dark little secret._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

Hallucination or not, Collins didn't disappear from his mind's eye. He was still there, right beside Andy. He was leaning forward elbows on knees.

He didn't take his eyes off of Andy. Was it possible he too was feeling threatened? Did he think he was losing Andy to the helpless, damaged man lying a few feet away from him?

Hell why couldn't he discern if any of this was real or not? Everything, but the two of them sitting side by side was hazy and unfocussed. Why was Collins here with her? The question stabbed his brain, while the answer trampled his heart like a ten ton truck.

They were very bonded, Collins and McNally. They had formed a connection born of real friendship. They had even played house together as an undercover couple for six months.

They were easy and comfortable together. He knew her intimately. She trusted him. Sam's angst-ridden thoughts continued to hound him. All of this was true. He had seen hints of it himself.

His heart hammered away in his chest as he saw watery images. Andy had turned to face Collins. What was that look in his eyes as he listened to her? It was unfathomable. It provided no answers to Sam's tortured mind.

He really didn't know if he was seeing or hearing this? He had lost the ability to detect what was happening and what was a simple manifestation of his mind. Could this be another vivid depiction of how he had always managed to create barriers between himself and Andy?

He thought he heard Collins voice then. It was only a word or two here and there. It was snippets of a conversation.

"Understand… need to do this."

"Not going anywhere… will be here."

"No pressure."

"Want to be with you."

"Good together… would never hurt you,"

Those words, imagined or not, tugged relentlessly at his heartstrings. Dammit, why had he, Sam, become the ugly, tarnished one? Why was he the dark horse?

Was it possible he would only ever be regarded as the loser who had already hurt her so poignantly? Could he ever emerge unfettered from the rags of the tainted soul who had broken her heart?

Was it possible that a robust challenge form Collins would snap the ties that still bound Andy McNally to him - Sam Swarek, the rebellious rogue?

Was there to be an ultimate test of love awaiting him when he rejoined the world?

Andy's voice _permeated his mind now_.

"… don't know."

"Too much… get through this."

"Figure it out."

She said something else. She had taken a while before saying it. It was meaningful, but he couldn't make it out. He simply couldn't.

He strained to open his eyes again. He tried so hard to focus on them. He wanted to make out the expression on their faces. It was to no avail. He couldn't discern what Andy's words meant to either of them. He simply couldn't tell.

Was any of this real? How could he know? How could he tell? The only thing he could be sure about… the only thing he knew for sure was that Andy _was_ there somewhere.

There was only one more thing he _was_ certain of. He loved Andy. He loved her more than he knew it was possible to love someone. Her happiness meant everything to him… _everything. _

There was something else. Something else he was fairly certain he had always known… _she loved him_.

A thunderous noise rang through his ears then. A gun shot. It pierced an odd new eery silence. He saw himself fall. He had been shot! Andy was beside him a second later.

He heard her words coming at him again. _"I love you."_ _she was overcome with emotion_.

_ "I love you. You are my story Sam. _You_!" _

This is what it came down to. That one sweet, simple revelation from her - that was what he had to hold onto. That, and the knowledge that he still held her heart in his hands. A peace flooded his senses. Finally, finally, he had an inner conviction that he had it in himself to really make Andy happy. He just needed one more chance... that was all one more chance.

That had to be enough. Goddammit, it had to be enough. His mind shut down then as he felt himself drift into an exhausted dreamless sleep.

Hours must have passed. He felt, at last, as if his mind was clear. He felt himself shift and move physically, really move. A heavy fatigue lifted its weighty burden up and way from him.

His eyelids felt feather light. He fluttered them open. Naturally, she came into his line of vision. The light silhouetted her, casting shadows on her face and giving her a beautiful, mystical aura.

He couldn't yet see the smile, he knew she wore.

Somewhere deep within him there was still angst. He pushed down the nagging worry that plagued him. The stress of those previous hallucinations, or realities, had not completely receded. They haunted him yet.

Still, all that mattered right now, at this moment in time was that he was awake. He had awoken to her. She was here. Here, _with him_.

"Sam," she whispered as if reading his mind. "I'm right here."


End file.
